Thursday, 28 March 2013

Christmas 2012





The words are unabled and are unfit for the purpose I intend. I am mute and disabled; I am dead in the water, mobility hit. Where do I go now that I cannot describe my curse? Where? It isn’t that I have not found an answer; it is just not the answer I sought.

And yet an answer of import it is.

We flew out Christmas Eve and for the first time in 47 years and second time in 50 years, I spent my Christmas outside the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. For the first time in many years I would not be able to drift in the cold past the church upon the hill, where those I know, of love and goodwill, gather on Christmas Eve. I would also, for the first time, experience New Year far, far away. Thousands and thousands of miles away and as is my want, once over the White Sea, no reading material this time, I ordered up a double JD, a couple of tubes of Asahi and settled down to catch up on some movies.

The Sweeney, fantastic movie, though formulaic. The original Sweeney TV series was the best cop show ever, its corrupt pathos was sublime, forget it Yanks.  It had a rushed, auctioned sadness throughout its core, the central characters slowly being ablated by the searing corruption within which they tried to remain true. The ss has regaled me with many a tale filling in the background details of the things he has witnessed in The Smoke, The Sweeney’s stomping ground.

Battleship, bollox, though I did watch it all ‘cos I love the BBs and the BCs. I have spent many a happy hour drifting off to sleep rearranging the rebuild of HMS Hood so that she would not have cracked up under radar guided high velocity shot!! It can be done I believe, with the resources to hand in a poor, rickets struck, war state, like UKplc 1939, but the Admiralty would never have sanctioned the thought. So we died, in our hundreds, again.

A real surprise was End of Shift; I am never going to USofA corp. as a tourist, if that is even a slight whiff of LA! If I transpose The Sweeney and the known events in London as described by the ss, onto LA, well who could relax. Good movie though.

The gold nugget was Inception. I randomly selected it because I had trundled up to the galley to get my daughter a spicy sea food noodle and myself another JD and tube, when I returned to my seat it was next on the menu. I had no previous idea what it was about but for some reason have started to forget The Beach when it comes to Mr D’C since catching the western remake of Infernal Affairs in which he co-starred.

I really liked it for two reasons. One, it is pure Einsteinian relativistic, so the physicist within me was happy as Larry. Two, it is the only western movie, at least as far as I have seen, after so many disappointments like Strange Days, Johnny Mnemonic and The Matrix, that actually gets close to what Gibson was writing about 30 years ago, before he got turned. You can tell he got turned when he was invited to speak at DARPA etc., as a futurologist. Since then he has written crap. Phekking good movie.

Soon enough, after almost half a day in the air, we hit the runway, cleared passport control and we were on the Express to home. As always on these 21hr, door-door yomps, I do not sleep. The others snoozed as we sped along in the almost empty carriage and I stared out through the unpatina’d glass at the land flashing past, the woods, the tidy fields, the isolated paddy remaining from the farm land expropriated decades ago, the clear, clean roads, at the ordered landscape, early in the day under the clear blue, on standby, television sky.

Heading around the Bay through MC1. Soon Chiba heaved into view and if you know what I’m referencing that is where the Bio-Labs will be. A little later, over the Sumida, and there it is, the Sky Tree, will soon be dining with friends out this way, then through Tokyo, Kawasaki, Yokohama and finally our terminus, Ōfuna. Taxi home and Christmas Day spent honouring parents.

Any change since I last visited?

Let me list a couple of the things that have NOT changed, the things I love there. You can still plod through narrow dimly lit alleyways and side streets safely, locate the small sushi bar where our friends Hos and Colin took us all those years ago, find your half empty whiskey bottle, as left upon the picture rail 17 years ago AND be recognised as its owner!  

One can wander through gigantic shopping malls of such breath taking boredom to the male eye that only the girls could get excited about them. Your correspondent usually leaves them to it, with a rendezvous many hours in advance, and ducks into an electronics store, floor after floor of erototech., cameras of such beauty that a photo of any one of the things would be award winning, hour after hour of magical machinery. If the girls are still not finished purchasing whatever, the quantum emporium is usually next to a selection of noodle bars and eat the huge pile of curry, get it for free restaurants. Anyway one can always park one’s tired ass, have a quiet meal, a brew or two and admire your latest in newly bought 3.0. Try that near any Currys or Eurotech!!!

The temples and the shrines. We attended the New Year’s Day bell ringing at the local temple, we stood together, rang the bell and peace was to be found there. Unlike any church vessel after Vatican 2’s surrender to the heathen. No wonder Ratzinger has gone into hiding, the ZioNaziRatfaced Ba’al Hammon disciple. Any clown who can go to RCE/TA’s pirate base and call the terrorist occupants “our elder brothers” is a phukking agent of shatan.

Even in mid-winter the vending machines at the local railway station will give you an ice chilled 1ltr brew to help you on the way uphill to home.

So the down side?

Well electrical energy rationing is evident, the Sky Tree goes a bit dim after 9pm or so, and after twenty-five years of economic warfare waged against this society, it is still resisting the so called change demanded by the monoheathenoidYahwehistas (See “Have you noticed that everyone has had a gutful of Yahweh now?”) . Just like the Germans the truth is leaking out here. Real truth you troofers, not the managed shit fought over by phukk d’witz out here on the ausphart. Real truth about what really happened, about how ordinary people were slaughtered. After two big sticks and a 25 year designer collapse there is no sign of surrender. Indeed the opposite is the case.

This brings me worryingly to the second thing that only a lover of turning and burning things seemed to notice. The girls seemed to think I was imagining, but no. There was, for the first time in my experience out there, the sound of high performance, low bypass turbofans, flying over in two ship flights at dusk. Yank or JASDF? Couldn’t clock them but I heard them every evening out there.

We left on twelfth night for our return flight. As we passed Vladivostok I ordered up a triple JW, two tubes of Heineken and settled down to sleep the sleep of the contented.

Easter 2013

We will go north, hundreds and hundreds of miles and as is my want on these occasions I will take some reading material. Total journey time estimated at 8 hours door-door. However I fully expect that it may take a couple of days since this is the arse hole of the universe. What reading material shall I take, I had finished all my Lavenda and Tarpley by Feb. Fey is finished again as of today. It will have to be something I tucked away for a rainy day. Mind you I could reread Gibson again, Wintermute, Count Zero, Hideo and the well hard girl with the razor hands. Zion Dub. Either way London Euston-Glasgow Central then out onto Union Street and the No 4 bus home.

I forgot to mention that after we got off the flight in January and had our first “touch point” with UKplc again, it was a typical let down. Everything in the thousands of miles and hours and hours of preceding travel had run like clockwork but as soon as we hit London Underground, what a shitheap!

Anyway to the north we go however before travelling we will be visiting the site of the famous Child Molesting Centre (CMC). No wonder they are going to grind parts of it off the face of the Earth. Removal of evidence. Shouldn’t it be CSI’d as a crime scene? Isn’t removal of evidence a crime in the country? Of course not. There is no crime in this country. How else can you explain the lack of perps getting banged up for stealing all our money, rigging everything, causing mayhem, designed recession and open borders to criminals? UKplc; the non existent state.

Of course it exists for us. Have you heard the footfall adverts from HMRC, new director a glass ceiling breaking, Common Purposed failure, scaring the shit out of us, the individual tax farmed serf? Yet HMRC have no balls to go and drag the murderous corporates like Phux TV, KopheeFucks, anyBanks, anyConsultants and assorted criminals to cough up!! No wonder the lights are going out in this town!! Cuts, cuts, cuts and more cuts. The clowns tell us we will live to 100 years of age. Well I remember the poisonous GGT telling us 25 years ago from the very same CMC that we would all retire at 55years of age. We will never retire and all die in harness now, so expect to die young.

We travel north to honour parents, a short stay, minima has a dental appointment soon after Easter and we are to watch the last recording in the CMC. These are the bounds of our time frame.

Why do I mention the CMC?

A Greek Cypriot, the brother of a friend of mine, who is an architect, once remarked to me “ I am not a priest of the temple, architect” upon my asking why he hadn’t gone on to design “big things” like stadia and aeropuertos? There then took place a long conversation during which it became clear that only the selected few, forget inclusivity and diversity, got to design the skyscrapers, airports, major public buildings and assorted eye stabbing modern built environment. These are the new temples and MUST stand out from the local environment despite pretend regulations about beauty and local harmony.

These things are the new temples and must capture your eye. So they interrupt harmony. The easiest way is to make them hideous. Check the Scottish Parliament.

Oh and the system will always give award winning status to these things to keep the herd in its place.

As with all temples there must be an altar, you just need to be able to decode the architect/priest’s, in your face, occulted imperative to observe it.

Now then, now then, now then. Boys and girls can you see thealtar?

I’ll bet you the chronal mirages of abuse will haunt the remainder for ever.

So we’ll be in there tomorrow evening and then off we go.

On the way home I’ll be, as usual, staring out the window of the bus at the scenery passing by. The windmill farm should make interesting viewing. I wonder what the Scottish government is going to say in a decade’s time when the wind farms are asked to deliver and they cannot. How are they going to explain the phukkup? By that time the EU will have shut everything that runs on nuke, coal, oil or anything else they choose to outlaw, down. Remember the clowns running the EU are the same familial inbreds that advised Stalin on agrarian reform precisely to starve out the kulaks. What makes you think that they like you any more than the kulaks oh flower of Scotland? They have an unending hatred of the Irish; you’ve been protected by association with their pirate base in England. Once independent the clearances will start again.

Why do they hate the Irish so?

Well I got the answer to that by accident and as I said above I got an answer I did not seek, it is a very important answer though.

A little while ago the ss and I were discussing his time in West Africa, in the 60s/70s, he remarked that the graves of the priests showed how quickly they died for their faith. Mostly Irish, their headstones would, not unusually, indicate their arrival date at the mission. From their date of death one could see that 6 months was not uncommon.

One has to go back over 2000 years, way back to the Punic wars to even start to get you head round two things. The anti-Gaulic attitude of the semites and the reason why Petros went to Rome.

Most who read about the second Punic war will always concentrate on the Romans and never consider the attitude of the Carthaginians to their hosts. The independent pirate base that was established in the Iberian Peninsula by Hannibal and co., so as not to break the terms of the first Punic war, illustrates a constant theme over the millennia. If one thinks of the stereotypical racist white slave owner attitude to his black slaves we are always told is so representative of the plantation owner in southern USofA, then magnify that attitude by two orders of magnitude. Then one gets the idea of how the descendents of the Phoenicians viewed the Gauls of Iberia. This is the reason the Irish are hated so, they were demonstrably not semitic.

Do you see that blue area on the map at the top of this article? Those are ancient semitic lands. Interestingly centuries later they would become semitic again under Islam. We are supposed to believe that everything is a great big mystery, no one really knows who the Phoenicians were and where they went once out in the Atlantic. No one knows their secrets, which they kept all to themselves, of the dye. So many secrets, so much ignorance, so much waffle. Sound familiar?

One thing we can say though is that there is a definite signature, apart from making sure all non-semites never get anywhere near any secret, the smell of high financed death. Dead people everywhere.

Now then, Simon.

Do you see the red bit on the map above, the bit where the Roman’s lived?

Oh and just to quote myself from something I will bang out at the other shop soon,

“Unlike some who blog, at the moment do not expect referenced material here, this is not a paper to be peer reviewed by hive minded academic clowns, this is a fucking blog!!!

This is forensic story telling, history as read by me, making more sense to me, for the history we’ve been handed down, upon which we are examined, when examined closely, is deliberated fiction.”

Well then who do you think the fisherman went to preach to, if we believe the scripture?

Romans?

Nah, they’d been bred out by then. The native population of Rome was of mainly Chaldean, i.e. semitic, decent by then. Indeed by the time the western Roman empire fell, the Roman natives, the abos, had been bred out of the peninsula altogether. So when I see my old mukka giving it large on Easter Sunday I only see a geezer kidding on he means any of the stuff that we think of as Christianity. No wonder all the church ever did was go around murdering persons. It is Ba’al Hammon’s proxy.

BTW UKplc the mechanism was to send the Roman citizen out to fight in the army in foreign parts and out breed them at home.

WW1 spring to mind UKplc?

USofA corp. getting the vibe yet?

Anyway next time out we shall be starting to build a thesis.

Until then I wish you a peaceful Easter.